


Aura Insider's Aesthetic

by Zenithar



Category: Original Work
Genre: But yes its aesthetic, Experimental Style, Literature style improvement, Multi, POV Experimental, Short Stories, Some kind of plot included but actually its not there, Still no porn in here, aesthetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:49:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22073545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenithar/pseuds/Zenithar
Summary: You may not feel right. Or you can suddenly feel an inner confidence. And you'll always write it down, whether you want to or not.(long stories short but with aesthetic)





	Aura Insider's Aesthetic

The remnants of some conceptual music with religious overtones were hanging in the forest air, something was singing there about Lucifer, Mephistopheles, and God inter alia. I slowly exhaled, raising my gaze on the crimson-haired demon and losing my orientation in space from a feeling of euphoria after being touched and dancing together. The magical background began to grow strongly in the world, giving more power to supernatural beings and more of Him to me. It did not become less of a problem, on the contrary, it only added more and more every day, but I honestly, most certainly, allowed myself to take two weeks off from all esotericism except Him. Yes, I had relationships with other people (and not just people) in my life and they were all special, but He... Kurai was not just special, he was the first and he has always been there for me.  
Magic flowed through each and every cell, mixing his nature and mine, while we just stood there, enjoying each other's presence and sharing as if one consciousness in two. His amber eyes, with a minuscule admixture of greenish shade closer to the pupil, expressed too frank thoughts. Words were unnecessary, we understood everything perfectly and enjoyed the moment with all our hearts. And it was the only thing we wanted.  
We weren't alone on this miserable sting of earth, sparkling with particles of burning ashes in the air, bringing the smell of delightful meat. The other's sight felt particularly strong, though not much worrying, as if it was reflected in the aura that had thickened around us. What I, what Kurai saw perfectly was the emotion of a man from what he had involuntarily witnessed: a dead yellow wine giving away the remnants of common sense in his drunken head; an emerald green wonder mixed with small notes of sane orange human suspicion; and a violet blue awe that stood out particularly sharply against the general background. Drunken people stink of unbridled feelings, they break through any protective layer and kill your already drunk mind, as if piercing through thousands of needles, but at the same time covering your mind with soft, almost imperceptible cotton wool with the bright smell of lavender or mint.  
The demon, still holding my hands, chastely kissed my head, expressing all the tenderness that the gesture implied. He smelled like burnt birches and an aftertaste of sangria, already flowing through our blood. Then Qurai turned to the man who was looking at us and glanced at him more attentively, as if solving some inner question. I transferred the gaze to a colleague I had worked with in a laboratory: slightly taller than me, literally a couple of inches, if not less; brown hair gathered in a ponytail and growing on the temples; clear face shape, cheekbones; wide, ridiculously curved eyebrows and blue eyes. Somehow it occurred to me that I would look similar if I were of a different gender and did not dye my hair.  
The demon seemed to have confidence in the answer, and I knew I would support him anyway. There was some playful excitement coming from him, and I picked up these emanations at an enviable speed for a drunk person. Qurai hummed something and slowly pulled a pack of his favorite cherry cigarillos out of his pants pocket. Got two, passed one to me. We set them on fire at almost the same time with a sudden blue flame created from a thumb. We stretched out, exhaled to the side. I stood on my toes and with a smile rubbed my nose into the demon's neck, inhaling his flavor. He tightened again and exhaled it out into my hair somewhere, holding me down with his hand so I wouldn't wobble in an unsteady position. He sent me the impulse to do something stupid. I sincerely supported him, grinning close to his adam, exuding aquamarine, warm-smelling happiness.  
And then there was only the smell of a fire, the night streets of the town far from the heights and the sparkling madness of pleasure.


End file.
